


dream home

by princesskay



Series: fragile (handle with force) [11]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: Holden’s gaze tracks its way around the empty room, processing the realization that Nancy isn’t just gone for the night, and this isn’t a scare tactic; it’s real and final. As the thought solidifies behind the flutter of his eyelashes, Bill realizes Holden is all he has left. They’re alone in his stripped down home, and Holden is the only fixture he wants to keep.After coming home to an empty house, Bill calls Holden.
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Series: fragile (handle with force) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552183
Comments: 28
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

The couch is doing a solo act in the middle of the living room carpet. 

Bill stares at the lumpy, green outline from the kitchen where he’s nursing a glass of whiskey and a cigarette, the two vices soothing the hurt in his chest by some small degree. The repetitive motion of inhaling on the cigarette is just as comforting as the taste of nicotine; he keeps doing it absently, letting ash build at the tip before tapping it into the sink. The hollowed out sound of the house settling around him rings unfamiliar, and the stripped down walls appear like some foreign backdrop to a place he’s never been. 

His gaze is fixed on the telephone mounted to the wall, one of the few items Nancy had left behind. It’s bolted into the drywall like the last vestige of what they once were, but maybe if it hadn’t been screwed down she would have tried to take it too. Bill has been thinking about picking it up and dialing the number he knows by heart since he first arrived home and toured the empty rooms. 

At first, it felt wrong in the wake of something he should be mourning or at least trying to reverse. He'd sat on the bare mattress in their bedroom for close to half an hour thinking he should be calling a different number, any number he knows where he might reach his wife. Instead, he drove down to the gas station and purchased a bulk package of Marlboros and a bottle of Jameson. He sat on the couch - left behind, just like him - and smoked three cigarettes before the anger and hurt wrestling around in his chest lost the tenuous battle and lapsed into something closer to apathy. 

_ Maybe it’s just the whiskey making him numb.  _ He thinks; but he has to admit that he gave up trying - really, deeply trying - before he came home to an empty house, before he’d had too many drinks, before he realized it’s all too late to go back now. 

Bill takes another sip of whiskey and presses his cigarette to his mouth as he shuffles to the phone. Picking up the receiver, he tucks it against his shoulder, and listens to the dial tone for a long moment. He sucks in a deep, shaky breath that collides with the stubborn knot of emotion in the back of his throat. 

It doesn’t feel wrong anymore as he lifts his trembling fingers to dial the number. It feels natural, like flexing a muscle that’s been given far too much exercise in the past few months. 

_ She left. She walked away first. Not me.  _ The lie etches itself across the back of his mind along with a dozen others, each of them trying desperately to ease the guilt cramming up through his chest and down against his ribs. 

Bill realizes the phone is ringing. He drags his cigarette from his mouth, and exhales slowly, easing the pace of his breathing and praying his heart will follow. 

“Hello?” Holden’s voice reaches from the other end of the line like a beacon shining out across dark waters. 

“Hey, it’s me.” 

“Oh, hi. What’s going on?” Holden asks. He can already hear the tremor of truth in Bill’s voice and there’s no point in taking a stab at deceit. 

“Sorry it's late.” Bill says, clutching the phone tighter. 

“It’s okay. What’s wrong?” 

Bill closes his eyes. Something about this feels familiar, only the shoe is on the other foot this time. 

“Fuck, Holden. She’s gone. They’re both gone.” 

There’s a few seconds of hesitation before Bill hears Holden draw in a breath.

“You mean …” 

“Nancy. She took Brian and left. I don’t know where.” 

“God, Bill-” Holden says, empathy oozing from the wounded sigh. 

Bill braces a forceful hand against the wall, channeling the burst of anger from his chest and into his palm. Closing his eyes, he bites back the urge to tell Holden not to bother, or that he isn’t looking for sympathy. Holden is just being kind, the way he always is, the way anyone would be in this situation. 

“I’m sorry.” Holden says, “Is there anything I can-”

“Yes. I was, uh …” Bill opens his eyes, and his gaze is drawn to a faint crack in the paint underneath of his index finger. “I was hoping that-”

“I can come over.” Holden finishes the question before Bill can articulate it. “Or you can come to me, or-” 

“No, that’s good.” 

“Which one?” 

“You coming here.” Bill says, choking on every word.

It feels pitiful and sad, asking for help, especially considering the emotional wringer he had put Holden through during the long weeks of Atlanta. He shouldn’t be asking for anything more from him, but the request is already verbalized - and Holden, damn his eagerness and generosity, is likely halfway out the door already. 

“Okay. Give me like half an hour.” Holden says. 

“Holden.” Bill says quickly before he can hang up. 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you sure? I know it’s late.” 

“Bill, are you kidding me? Of course, I’m sure.” 

Bill nods, swallowing back the stinging in his throat. “Okay.” 

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” 

“Holden?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Bring the Vaseline.” 

A beat of silence before Holden assures him, “Okay. I’m coming. See you in a little bit.” 

“Okay. Bye.” 

Bill hangs up the telephone, and the empty house descends into silence again. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the counter, he wanders back into the living room. He sits down on the couch, and it becomes a duet - the two of them lonely and abandoned, old and tired. 

Bill crushes his dwindling cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the cushion beside him, and takes the pack from his shirt pocket to light a new one. The ignition is the only sound in the house aside from his breathing, and his pulse contained inside his own head.

He pushes aside Nancy and anger, and thinks about Holden driving to him through the night. Sweet, supple, responsive Holden; his pert, ample backside; his ripe, pink lips; his hard, youthful cock spitting cum at the slightest caress. Those pretty blue eyes have a way of making the whole world disappear, and right now just the thought of them is doing a well enough job on his wife and son. 

Bill smokes through his cigarette and starts in on another before he hears the sound of a car pulling up into the driveway. He doesn’t move from the couch, but he shifts up against the cushions and takes a bolstering drink of whiskey. 

He hears the doorknob rattle just before the door creaks open. Holden’s shadow falls across the carpet where the light from the kitchen spills faint and yellow. 

“Bill?” Holden says, almost a whisper. 

Deep shadows conceal the nuances of his expression, but Bill can see the worried frown knitting his brow. He’s dressed down in slacks and a polo, and he’s holding a duffel bag in his right hand. 

“Hey.” Bill says, mustering a feeble smile. 

Holden’s gaze tracks its way around the empty room, processing the realization that Nancy isn’t just gone for the night, and this isn’t a scare tactic; it’s real and final. As the thought solidifies behind the flutter of his eyelashes, Bill realizes Holden is all he has left. They’re alone in his stripped down home, and Holden is the only fixture he wants to keep. 

“I, um, brought some stuff.” Holden says, lifting the duffel bag limply. “Overnight stuff.” 

Bill nods. “She took the sheets.” 

Holden’s eyes soften. “Jesus. Bill, I’m sorry. This is-”

“It’s okay.” Bill says, the ironic assurance slipping past his lips before he can wonder at the absurdity of it. 

Ducking his head, he takes a hard drag of his cigarette, and taps the ashes out. Smoke expels from his mouth in a steady stream as Holden wanders across the carpet to the couch. 

Setting the duffel bag on the floor, he stands in front of Bill with his hands shifting uncomfortably at his sides.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, softly. 

Bill lifts his gaze to Holden’s. He doesn’t try to arrange his expression into something neutral or unconcerned. Holden is silently reading him, gazing past the steely layers of indifference to find the vulnerable underbelly of pain. 

“No.” Bill says, “I’d rather not.” 

“Okay. Do you-” 

Bill ashes his cigarette, and grabs onto Holden’s wrist before the next question can emerge. He tugs Holden forward, between his knees, and presses his forehead to Holden’s belly. 

Holden stiffens in surprise, but doesn’t protest. He gingerly eases his hands across Bill’s shoulders, absorbing the faint tremble rippling underneath. 

Bill sucks in a deep breath against the punishing threat of tears stinging at his eyelids, every bit of pain and suffering of the last few months wanting to break free into the comforting plane of Holden’s belly. Curling his fingers around Holden’s waist, he drags him closer, and buries his face into the soft warmth. 

He breathes in deeply the smell of Holden until he feels the knot in his throat ease, and the threat of breaking down retreat back into the sick weight lingering in his stomach. Holden doesn’t move, but Bill can feel every breath swelling in his belly, growing faster as the silence elongates like a rubberband about to snap beneath the growing weight of tangled emotions. 

Turning his cheek against Holden’s stomach, Bill draws in a steadying breath. His eyes slip open to glimpse the bare wall that's marred by the nails sticking out of the drywall where pictures and artwork had once hung. The decor which had once been so familiar to him that he’d barely noticed its presence is now brutally absent, leaving the wall vacant and jaundiced in the scarce light. He averts his gaze from the wounding wash of bare paint, but all he can focus on is the corner of the carpet coming up. There used to be a chair there, hiding what a poor job the builders had done nailing it down. 

Bill draws back, gripping Holden’s hips in trembling fists. 

“Bill-” Holden begins, his gaze meeting Bill’s worriedly. 

Bill drags him down by the wrist until he can clutch Holden’s nape, and guide his sputtering mouth into a desperate, biting kiss that ends any idea of conversation with the slick press of lips and tongues. Their rasping breaths punctuate the seconds leading towards mounting need, interrupted only by the quiet whimper that scrapes from the back of Holden’s throat. 

Clutching Holden’s cheeks, Bill draws back just far enough to sever the kiss, but to keep their foreheads mashed together. Breaths surge hotly back and forth in the scant space between their mouths, and Bill can hear the desire bleeding through into Holden’s lungs. 

“Fuck, I need you.” Bill whispers, the plea stammering inelegantly from his throat. 

Holden stumbles closer, bracing his hands against Bill’s shoulders to keep himself steady. He nods against Bill’s grip on his jaw, humming an affirmative. 

Bill lets him go, and Holden leans back. His eyes are wide and eager as he begins to sink to his knees. 

“No.” Bill says, putting a hand on his hip. “Stand up.” 

Holden’s brow furrows in a confused frown, but he obeys. 

Bill leans back against the cushions, perusing Holden’s trembling figure standing uncertainly over him. 

“Get undressed.” Bill says, waving a finger down his body. 

Holden’s tongue darts out to dampen his parted lips. He swallows hard as he reaches down to unbuckle his belt. The pants sink to his ankles when he lowers the zipper, and the briefs are quick to follow. Holden strips them down, and tugs the discarded garments from his ankles. As he straightens, Bill can see that his cock is already getting hard, the length of him twitching and swelling rapidly. 

Bill draws in a breath through his nostrils, tamping down the urge throw Holden to the carpet and fuck him until he’s raw and crying. He deserves something more than that, coming at Bill’s beck and call in the middle of the night, offering himself over and over despite Atlanta, despite Bill’s mercurial reticence about Brian. He can see how he’s been irresponsible with the power Holden willingly hands over to him; but he has a chance to fix that now, even if he can’t fix anything else that he’s done wrong. 

Holden pulls his polo off over his head, and drops to it the floor. His hands drift to his sides, curling anxiously while Bill’s gaze travels up and down his naked body awash in the dim kitchen light. 

Bill pushes up from the cushions, and extends his hand. 

Holden stares at it for a moment before he puts his hand in Bill’s palm. 

Dragging him forward, Bill braces his other hand on Holden’s thigh, and presses his mouth to the sharp outline of his hip bone. 

“Bill …” Holden whispers a quiet gasp as Bill’s mouth layers open-mouth kisses across his hip bone and quivering line of muscle leading down to his groin. His cock twitches, rising eagerly towards his belly with every caress. 

Bill nuzzles into his pubic hair, inhaling the musky scent of him. He shifts his hand from Holden’s thigh to caress the swollen weight of his balls. 

Holden stiffens and gasps quietly. A tremble ripples through him as he shifts closer, urging himself into Bill’s caress. 

Bill turns his mouth to find the root of Holden’s cock, completely erect and throbbing now. He mouths along the shaft where veins pulse beneath the graze of his lips. Holden’s hips curl into touch, containing an uncontrollable shiver of need. 

As Bill reaches the tip, he expels a hot breath across the swollen flesh. Rolling Holden’s balls across his palm and into the clutch of his fingers, he takes the head into his mouth just long enough to feel Holden shiver from deep inside. 

“Oh God …” Holden gasps, his fingers clamping down on the back of Bill’s neck. “Bill, oh fuck.” 

He tastes like the heady salt of desire, but Bill lets the pulsing skin pop free of his lips with a smack. Cutting a hungry gaze upward, Bill reads Holden’s pleasure in his wide, blinking eyes, the pink glow on his cheeks, his mouth hanging open in shaky breaths. A thrill of satisfaction surges through Bill’s chest as Holden shudders helplessly in his grasp, and the sound of his whimpers swells in the empty corners of the house. 

Bill reaches down to drag the duffel bag closer. 

“Is it in here?” He asks. 

Holden nods. 

Bill drags the zipper open, and reaches inside to find the jar sitting on top. Pushing the ashtray aside, he sets the Vaseline in its place. 

“Turn around.” 

Holden’s mouth is stuck halfway open. As he turns around, he peeks over his shoulder with wide, blinking eyes. Undoubtedly, he came here tonight expecting to be quickly stripped of his clothes, pinned down, and fucked hard; but as much as they both might have enjoyed that, Bill has something else in mind. 

Framing Holden’s hips in his hands, Bill draws him backwards into a kiss that lands against the top of his right cheek. He plants wet kisses down the swell of Holden’s ass, humming a pleased sound when he feels Holden quiver in his grasp. A quiet, choked sound of need radiates from above when he nips softly his teeth at the inner curve of Holden’s cheek leading in towards the warm, taut pucker of his hole. 

Bill shifts his palms down to grasp both ass cheeks, stretching Holden open to the eager stroke of his lips. 

Holden stumbles forward, but manages to keep his balance even as Bill kisses his way inward, until his mouth is pressed into cleft, tongue flicking at the tight, sensitive opening.

“Oh God.” Holden gasps, clutching onto Bill’s wrists for support. “Bill-”

Bill licks lavishly up and down the cleft, humming a sound of satisfaction as Holden’s taste and smell inundate his senses. Taut muscles are quick to melt beneath the familiar, warm caress of Bill’s tongue swirling against him, lathering him in saliva and easing him open. It isn’t long before Bill is pushing against the faint resistance, and feeling his tongue slip inside, feeling Holden shuddering against him as his hips lurch eagerly into the pressure. 

Holden rocks back into Bill’s guiding grasp, urging Bill’s tongue fucking into him. He moans hoarsely, his voice echoing louder against the empty walls. 

Drawing back, Bill bites the inner swell of Holden’s ass cheek, and groans a sound of need. 

“Fuck, you taste good.” He mutters into Holden’s skin. 

Holden makes a choked sound of desire, and cranes his chin over his shoulder to glimpse Bill’s mouth and nose nuzzling into his warm, saliva-slick cleft. 

“Oh … oh, please.” Holden whimpers. Knees trembling, he leans back against Bill’s grip, and arches his hips into the wet stroke of his tongue. “Fuck, please.” 

Bill’s mouth comes up from Holden’s skin, drawing in a deep, raspy breath. “Please what?” 

Holden bites at his lower lip, casting Bill a shy glance from underneath hooded eyelids. “I want … I want your fingers.” 

“Good.” Bill murmurs, flexing his grasp over Holden’s bare, shuddering hips. Leaning back against the cushions, he pulls Holden down into his lap. 

Holden falls compliantly back against his chest, his legs spilling open over Bill’s knees. His cock leaps hard and pink against his shuddering belly, displayed there between his creamy thighs, a work of art if Bill has ever seen one. 

Sliding his arm over Holden’s chest, Bill presses his mouth up against Holden’s ear and whispers, “Lift your legs up here.” 

Holden slides down lower against Bill’s chest, and lifts his trembling legs up until his thighs are resting against his eagerly swelling ribs. In the low light, Bill can see the swollen head of his cock producing a little stream of pre-cum, already treading the border between arousal and pleasure though Bill has hardly touched him. 

Bill swipes the Vaseline from the cushion beside them, and holds it on Holden’s chest while he unscrews the lid. Holden’s chest rises sharply beneath the jar as the lid comes off, and Bill dips his fingers into the lubricant.

The slick sound of his fingers penetrating the Vaseline is met by Holden’s needy whimper stringing in short, panting bursts from the back of his throat. His hips wiggle against Bill’s thighs as Bill sets the Vaseline aside, and reaches down to find Holden’s exposed hole. Already wet with saliva, he’s pliant and open when Bill touches him; his fingers meet scarce resistance as he lathers the excess Vaseline on his fingers over the hole before pushing inside.

“Ohhh.” Holden moans as Bill’s finger hooks deep within him to find the swollen bud of his prostate on the first thrust. 

Bill pumps his finger in and out until he feels Holden open up to him, and Holden’s impatient squirming and moaning assure him that he’s ready and willing. He pushes a second finger inside, and Holden’s back arches up from his chest as an electric current of pleasure shoots through him, his hole clamping around Bill’s fingers. 

“Oh, fuck.” Holden moans, reaching up to grip Bill’s wrist in a powerful grip. He hangs on as his body shudders and melts over Bill’s lap, heaving to and from the alternating gentle and deep thrusts of Bill’s fingers going into him. 

His cock jolts helplessly against his belly, leaking a stream of glistening pre-cum that drizzles down the head and into the fair trail of hair leading down his stomach. Bill derives such pleasure from watching him burn with need, but he’s not looking to torture Holden in that way tonight; he wants him coming, so hard and so fast that he barely sees it coming, and then again, over and over until he has nothing left to give. 

Bill slips his other hand over Holden’s heaving ribs, creeping up on his writhing cock so that Holden feels the sensation coming just before it hits. 

A low whine emanates from Holden’s throat as he watches Bill’s fingers crawl up against the swollen shaft through half-shut eyes. At the feathery graze of Bill’s fingers, the whine sharpens into a gasp and a broken, incoherent plea. He arches up from Bill’s chest again, every inch of him stiffening towards the gradual stroke of Bill’s fingers curling around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck, Bill.” Holden moans, his head tilting back against Bill’s shoulder to expose his flushed, straining throat. 

Bill presses his mouth against the tender spot under Holden’s open jaw as he thrusts his fingers deliberately into him, and grazes his thumb over the leaking head of his cock. He feels a jolt in Holden’s squirming dick that travels through the rest of his body, down to his arched feet curling helplessly against empty air. 

Holden cries out, clutching at Bill’s forearm braced firmly against his stomach and flexing with every thrust of his hand. His nails dig in, but the faint pain offers little distraction to Bill’s focus trained on Holden’s body squeezing around his fingers, and his cock throbbing against the torturous graze of his fingers. 

“Bill, please…” Holden pants, turning his head so that his breath hits the corner of Bill’s mouth. “Fuck, I’m so close.” 

Bill’s hand retreats from Holden’s cock, and Holden nearly sobs, his face twisting in desperate need. 

Bill slips his fingers under Holden’s stretched open jaw, and guides his head back so that Bill can see every wince and gasp of need writing it’s way across Holden’s face. 

“Go ahead.” He murmurs, nodding at Holden’s writhing cock. “Touch yourself.” 

Moaning eagerly, Holden grabs at his twitching cock. Bill watches his fingers curl around the shaft and tug desperately at it, squeezing another pearly drop of pre-cum from the tip. 

“Bill, yes.” Holden pants, grinding his hips into the pressure of Bill’s fingers thrusting into his hole. “Harder; fuck me harder.” 

Bill responds without hesitation, fucking two fingers into Holden’s slick, open hole harder and faster. Holden gasps in pleasure, his jerking hand matching the frantic pace. Quickly, his limbs begin to stiffen, and his back rises into a taut, shivering arch, everything clamped down on the pulsing arousal threatening to break loose from between his pale thighs. 

Bill’s gaze shifts between Holden’s hand on his dick and his tense, squeezed expression of immense arousal, absorbing every detail of both until the tension snaps with the buck of Holden’s backside against his knees. 

“Oh, ohhh!” Holden cries, a gasp catching in the back of his throat as pleasure breaks loose from his belly. He trembles viciously in Bill’s lap as his hole clamps around Bill’s knuckles and his cock shoots cum up his belly and chest. His fist pumps wildly up and down his spurting dick, straining every last spasm and drop from inside himself. 

Slowly, the spasms ease, and his hole softens around Bill’s fingers. His hand lapses against his belly, fingers painted milky white with cum that’s splattered all over his chest, belly, and wilting cock. 

Bill extricates his fingers gently from Holden, and presses a kiss against his flushed cheek. 

“Christ, you’re beautiful like that.” He murmurs, watching cum drizzle across one pink nipple. 

Holden shudders in his embrace, and lets his legs slip over Bill’s knees and back to the floor. He rests there limply for a long minute until his breathing slows. 

As he gathers himself up from Bill’s chest, Bill winces at the pressure of Holden’s backside against his own throbbing groin. He’s painfully hard beneath his trousers, but he’s almost too focused on the delicious curve in Holden’s pale spine as he leans forward to grab his discarded shirt from the floor to think about anything else.

Holden uses the shirt to wipe off his hand and chest before throwing it back on the carpet. Casting a hazy glance over his shoulder, he murmurs, “Do you want to fuck me now?” 

Bill extends his index finger to trace the dip and curve dividing Holden’s bare back until he reaches the knob of his tailbone. 

Holden shudders beneath the caress, muttering a sound of need. 

“Mm.” Bill mutters, leaning forward to stamp a row of kisses along Holden’s shoulder, “Yes, I’m going to fuck you good and hard before the night’s over, but …” 

“But what?” Holden asks, curiously, his voice rising with subdued excitement. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” Bill says, trailing his fingertip along Holden’s hip. 

“What else do you want to do with me?”

“A lot of things.” Bill whispers, smearing a kiss against Holden’s quivering spine. He exhales a hot breath as he moves up against Holden’s nape, placing a wet kiss right against his hairline. “First, I want you over my knee.” 

Holden shudders, nodding before Bill can finish the sentence. 

“Mm, yes.” He moans, tilting his head back into the hot press of Bill’s mouth coating his neck with slick kisses.

“Would you like that?” Bill mutters, though he already knows the answer. 

“Yes, please.” Holden pants, his hips beginning to squirm in Bill’s lap. 

Bill slides his palm around Holden’s ribs, down against his quivering belly to find his spent cock already twitching with life again. 

“That’s a good boy.” Bill says, biting back a groan as Holden’s cock twitches in his palm. “Gonna come for me again, hm?” 

“Oh, fuck.” Holden moans, his back arching sharply as Bill strokes him harder. “Yes. As many times as you want.”

“Good.” Bill says, his hand retreating from Holden’s half-hard cock. “Now get down, over my knee.” 

Sliding off of Bill’s lap, Holden scrambles to turn around, and throw himself over Bill’s knee. 

Bill spares a quick glance at the back of his head outlined against the familiar, faded green fabric of the couch where he’s sat watching movies with Brian, or sharing a late night cigarette with Nancy a thousand times. Holden’s moans are already writing over those memories, shoving them to the back of Bill’s mind, shuttering them off with the idea of endless pleasure offered in the sumptuous swell of his round backside. 

Turning his gaze to Holden’s ass squirming over his knee, Bill smooths his hand down the pale arch of his spine. 

Holden twitches, his shoulders bunching up against his neck as his body tenses in anticipation. His ribs expand and constrict again with a heavy, exhilarated breaths that drive quiet whimpers from his chest. 

Bill lets the moment build, his hand grazing Holden’s backside, squeezing gently at the supple flesh, letting Holden whimper in desperation until he’s writhing against Bill’s knee, half-rutting his hardening dick into Bill’s thigh. 

That’s when Bill let his hand fly - when he knows Holden is desperate for it, on the verge of pleading for the pain. His palm cracks across tender skin, and instantaneous pink blooms across the swell of ivory.   
Holden lurches against his knee, crying out softly. 

Pleasure surges through Bill’s chest, going directly to his head where his pulse is pounding wildly in his temples. Seething hot satisfaction pours into his veins like nicotine, urging the repetitive motion just like the drag of a cigarette. 

He brings his hand down again, landing his palm squarely across the other cheek. 

There’s a method to holding your hand just right to avoid hurting yourself, and he’s all but perfected it in the perhaps hundreds of times they’ve been here, Holden begging for it, Bill all too willing to give it. The way Holden whimpers and recoils assures him that he’s measured out just the right amount of force to make it sting in the most arousing way. 

Bill pauses just long enough for Holden to stop whimpering before striking out again. The fleshy crack of skin-on-skin echoes through the empty living room, the hollowed out acoustics holding onto the reverberation long after the contact has turned Holden’s backside deep, blushing pink. 

Holden moans, and grasps at the corner of the cushion to hold himself still. His ass is writhing over Bill’s knees, his toes lodged into the carpet to push his hips eagerly towards the contact. 

Bill presses a hand over his lower back, pinning down the recoil of Holden’s body when his hand comes down again. He calculates the blow, making certain it’s just a little bit harder than the ones that came before. 

Holden’s skin is warmed and tingling, and he can take it without wrenching away. He only shudders and moans, staying in place over Bill’s knee even as the spankings come down harder and faster. 

Bill sets a steady pace, swinging his hand down rhythmically, allowing only brief seconds in between. Holden gasps and trembles through each one, but Bill can feel his cock prodding into his thigh, rock hard from punishment. He watches the red bloom and heat beneath the blows of his palm, creeping across the both ass cheeks until they’re twin, pink globes, raw and sensitive. 

Holden cries and writhes, his hips digging into Bill’s thigh as his body instinctively attempts to shy away from the repetitive sting of Bill’s hand. 

Bill pauses to let the inflamed skin rest a moment, and grazes his fingertips across the tender, pink swell. 

Holden shudders, and makes a choked sound of pain and pleasure. “Oh, fuck.” 

Bill purses his mouth over a pleased sigh when he hears the sweet torture etched in Holden’s muted curse. “How does that feel?” 

“Good.” Holden whimpers, his shoulders shuddering with a deep, intoxicated breath. “Hurts.” 

Bill strokes the warm, red skin, biting his lip over a groan as Holden whimpers and flinches beneath every caress. 

“I can feel how hard you are.” He says, slipping his fingers between Holden’s ass cheeks. 

Holden gasps, arching his hips into the slight pressure going down against his still wet hole. “Yes.” 

Bill pushes his finger inside, and pumps his hand lazily against the minor resistance. 

Holden’s hips lurch up against the brief massage, and he moans low in disappointment when Bill stops abruptly, withdrawing his hand to squeeze battered skin. 

“Fuck, please.” Holden groans, pressing his forehead into the cushions. 

Bill spanks him again, three more times to hear him moan in desperation. 

Holden whimpers and twists under the weight of Bill’s hand braced firmly against his lower back. He peeks over his shoulder when the spankings taper off again, and Bill smooths his hand over red skin. 

“Come up here.” Bill says, patting the cushion beside him. 

Holden grimaces as he rises from Bill’s knee, and sinks to the cushion beside him. His cock is rigid against his belly again, still sporting a fine, dusty layer of dried cum from his first orgasm. 

Bill brushes his fingertips down the throbbing length, garnering a shiver from deep in Holden’s belly. Pressing a kiss to the corner of Holden’s panting mouth, he murmurs, “Look at you … So fucking hard.”

“This is what you do to me.” Holden says, biting coyly at his lower lip. 

He lifts his arms submissively over his head, and Bill takes his cock in a firm grasp. Holden moans, his head falling back against the cushions. Thighs spilling open eagerly to Bill’s nudging, he rocks his hips into the guiding pull of Bill’s hand directing his Holden’s cock to his mouth. 

Sprawled over Holden’s thighs, Bill sinks to his knees on the carpet to position his mouth directly over Holden’s cock. The shaft throbs against his palm at the first stroke of his lips, and Bill tightens his grip. 

Holden hisses softly, his jaw clenching against the wild beat of need growing his belly. His eyelids slip open to watch hazily as Bill’s mouth slides wetly over the head and down, lathering him in saliva with long, gradual strokes. 

“Oh God.” Holden chokes out, his brow furrowing in deep concentration. “Oh, Bill …” 

The taste of flesh and the salt of cum dissolves across Bill’s tongue as he sucks up and down, filling his mouth with Holden, his taste, his need, his quivering eagerness to do whatever Bill wishes. The heat of youthful desire is pulsing through every inch of him, turning him hard despite one orgasm already and Bill just wants to wring them out of him, one at a time, slowly, deliberately, until he’s dry and aching, spent and used. 

Bill sucks down harder and faster as the thought brands its way across his mind, laying out the remaining dark hours of the evening with clear, shining possibility. 

Holden’s hand clutches at the back of his neck, and he moans pitifully through every stroke right up until the arousal intensifies. Bill feels his muscles quivering with exhilaration as he stiffens, his hips locking against the steady pressure of Bill’s mouth. Tiny, choked gasps emerge from his throat as the wet sound of Bill’s mouth going up and down his cock fills the gaps of silence, soon falling utterly silent while he holds his breath waiting for the orgasm to come. 

Bill maintains the rapid pace of his sucking until he feels Holden’s hips buck and his spine arch, his body breaking wildly free of rigid anticipation. He pulls back to watch as Holden’s cock jets a fresh stream of cum, and his mouth stretches open in breathless pleasure. He jerks his hand up and down the shaft through the spasms, extending the depth and length of Holden’s orgasm until Holden is recoiling away from the coarse touch, whimpering softly. 

Bill eases his stroke to a gentle caress until Holden’s cock goes limp in his hand, oozing lingering cum from the tip. 

Holden gasps in a breath and winces. “Oh God, that was …” 

Bill lets him go, and sits back on his heels. “Good?” 

“So good.” Holden whispers, clasping a hand over his forehead as he catches his breath. 

Bill grabs Holden’s discarded polo, and wipes his hand off. He offers it to Holden. 

“You’re gonna have to burn that after I’m done with you.” He says, smothering a glowering smile as Holden wipes down his belly. 

Holden drags his sapped limbs upright against the cushions. The sunset is gone, leaving the living room in total darkness except for the kitchen light, but Bill can see the blush staining his cheeks. 

“What else do you have planned?” Holden asks. 

Extending his foot across the carpet, he nudges his leg between Bill’s to rub his shin up against Bill’s erection. 

Bill braces a hand against Holden’s knee as need coils around his groin. 

“You still haven’t fucked me yet.” Holden murmurs, leaning forward to meet Bill’s mouth in a brief, sloppy kiss. “And I want you to. So bad. I want you to fuck me.” 

Bill’s breath catches in the back of his throat, but he tugs Holden down into another kiss to mask the way Holden’s whispered pleas so easily devastate his self-control. Crawling up onto the couch between Holden’s thighs, he pins him back against the cushions. Holden squirms underneath of him, moaning impatient sounds against his kiss. 

Clasping Holden’s cheek, Bill draws back just far enough to glimpse Holden’s eyes gleaming hungrily in the semi-darkness of the room. 

“Rest for a minute.” Bill says, petting his cheek. “You’re gonna need it.” 

The confidence in Holden’s gaze ebbs. A small frown knits his brow. 

Bill bites back a smile, and nudges his mouth down against Holden’s ear. “I want you hard again when I fuck you. Hard and coming all over yourself.” 

Holden shudders under him, and makes a quiet, excited noise. 

“You think you can do that for me?” Bill asks, stroking his thumb across Holden’s chin and jawline. 

Holden’s voice holds a slight tremor, “I’ll try.” 

Bill follows the caress of his thumb along Holden’s jaw with his mouth, and kisses his way down the flushed column of his throat until he reaches the hollow between his collar bones. Holden’s chest expands with exhilarated breaths as Bill’s mouth pauses at the top of his breastbone, absorbing all the tiny exhales and shivers. 

Bill turns his forehead down against Holden’s chest, and closes his eyes. Some of the tension in his shoulders has melted away, but reality hovers just outside the contained ecstasy of this moment, pleasure sharing a dwindling halflife with misery. 

Holden’s hands drape over his shoulders before shifting up to cradle the back of his head. In the silence, his breathing is raspy yet steady beneath Bill’s forehead, the sound of his heartbeat barely masked by skin and bone. Bill listens to it until the faint wail of despair fades into the background, and he feels the need shifting under his skin again, triggered by Holden’s warm bare skin against him, the smell of his cologne and sweat and release coalescing into an intoxicating aphrodisiac. 

He drags his body from repose, and clasps Holden’s hand to lift him up from the cushions. Holden leans against him as he finds his balance, his hands braced against Bill’s chest. His gaze is attentive and open, waiting for Bill’s next command. 

Silently, Bill grabs the Vaseline from the cushion, and leads Holden down the hallway to the bedroom. The couch is left alone again, staring at the empty walls in the dying light. 


	2. Chapter 2

Bill’s hand squeezes around Holden’s when he turns on the light to illuminate the bed, stripped of its sheets, sitting in the middle of the empty room. Though Bill had told him as much, it still strikes Holden how bare and brutal the bed Bill had once shared with his wife looks sitting there discarded like one final statement of resentment. 

Holden disentangles his fingers from Bill’s, and walks across the carpet to run his fingertips over the bare mattress. Not so long ago, he’d been jealous of Nancy for having Bill in this bed, having his commitments, his promises, and despite his infidelity, his persevering devotion. He thinks that maybe he has those things now, that he’s usurped Nancy in some way though she made the choice to leave on her own. Now, here he is with Bill standing over the remnants of history, fulfilling some twisted, possessive fantasy he has imagined for far too long. 

“You’re going to fuck me where you used to sleep with her.” He says it aloud, before his conscience can make him swallow it down. 

Bill’s hands grasp his hips, and Holden’s pulse spikes. 

“Yeah. That turns you on?” Bill’s voice is a gruff whisper, a hint of shame just underneath that matches the flush crawling up Holden’s throat. 

“Mhm.” Holden murmurs as Bill’s mouth brands a hot kiss against the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he tilts his head back into it, and clutches his fingers over Bill’s grip on his hips. “I want you to own me - only me.” 

Bill’s mouth tears away from his neck, and he forces Holden around to face him. Palming Holden’s jaw, he drags him into a hard kiss, but not before Holden can glimpse the glimmer of conflicting pain and need in his eyes. 

Holden leans into the kiss, humming urgency from the back of his throat. His mouth lapses open to the brusque stroke of Bill’s lips coming down so fast that he can hardly find a second to breathe.

Bill draws him closer, hands splaying over Holden’s backside and squeezing hungrily at the swell of skin. He’s still clothed, but Holden can feel Bill’s erection from beneath his trousers, thumping wildly into Holden’s own twitching groin. 

Bill severs the kiss, and pushes Holden down to the bare mattress. 

The fabric is coarse and unforgiving against his raw backside, but the faint sting of pain only encourages the need crushing between his thighs. Holden bites at his lower lip as he shifts toward the middle of the bed, keeping his eyes trained on Bill’s tense expression of desire. Opening his legs, he lays back, and raises his arms over his head. 

Bill’s gaze lazily peruses Holden’s eagerly displayed body for a long moment before he lifts his hands from his sides to unbutton his shirt. Holden squirms impatiently as each button slides open, and the fabric parts from his chest. Bill shrugs out of the shirt, letting it fall to the ground before stripping his undershirt off over his head. 

Holden purses his mouth over the moan building in the back of his throat. He can see Bill’s cock straining against his trousers, and his own groin stirs with reawakened need so recently doused by pleasure. He’d promised to try, but he hadn’t needed to; his body is diving ahead without being told, desire unfolding in his veins like the touch of fire. Bill has yet to touch him again, and he’s already half-hard, his sensitized skin jolting, nearly painful, with every gush of blood trickling south. 

Unzipping his pants, Bill nudges them from his hips. His loosed cock tents the fabric of his boxers, but he doesn’t strip out of them. 

Holden’s gaze curiously follows as Bill walks to the closet. He pushes aside shirts and jackets to run his fingers across the selection of ties. Holden swallows hard, shoving down the sense of urgency building to a scream in the back of his mind. A part of him enjoys the torture of being tied down and helpless while another longs to be able to touch back while Bill’s hands are taking him apart. When he’s restrained, what little control he has over the moment disappears, and he’s left helpless and writhing, at Bill’s mercy. 

Still, Holden doesn’t protest as Bill tugs a blue paisley tie free from the rest, and returns to the bed. Circling the end of the bed, he catches Holden by the wrist, and drags his arms up against the banister that spans the end of the bed frame. His gaze flicks between Holden’s upturned, eager expression and his bare wrists crossed loosely across the wood as he loops tie under Holden’s arms. 

The silky fabric winds around Holden’s wrists tightly enough that he won’t be able to escape, but just loosely enough to allow blood flow. Bill ties the ends around the banister with a double knot, and tugs on it to test the security. 

Holden shifts anxiously against the scratchy fabric of the stripped mattress. His skin itches with need that’s pulling his cock taut and hard against his belly, and the dull roar in his brain is deafening now that the room is utterly quiet, devoid of the dirty whispers Bill had fed into his ear on the couch. There’s only intention and action left, anticipation building in solitary seconds passed in the tick of Holden’s pulse.

Bill circles back around to where Holden’s toes are digging into the bed, and grabs onto his ankle. Guiding Holden’s leg out of the way, he climbs onto the mattress and between Holden’s quaking knees. 

Holden’s arms shift down against the tie as Bill leans over him, his gaze silently taking Holden apart. He bends to press a kiss to Holden’s mouth, and he tastes of cigarettes and whiskey, simmering need burning in between those two vices and threatening to overwhelm them both. Holden lifts his head to return the kiss, but Bill’s mouth is quick to shift lower, taking in the strained column of his throat, nibbling against the layer of skin and muscles stretched up over his collarbones. 

Holden arches from the bed, and lets out a muted groan as Bill’s mouth burns a path down his chest to where his nipple is hard with prickling need. The faint scrape of teeth sends a bolt of sharp sensation deeply through his spine and into his belly, urging a gasp from his throat. 

Bill’s lips suction around the sensitive bit of flesh, soothing Holden’s exhilarated shivers just before he bites in again. 

Holden’s wrists lurch against the tie. The quick, sharp pain of teeth sinking into skin registers differently through his body than the spanking, and he’s still trembling through confused shudders of agony and need when Bill lets go, soothing tortured skin with a flick of his tongue. 

“Fuck …” Holden whispers, blinking against the lingering hum of pain working its way across his nipple. 

Bill hums a responding sound of satisfaction, and takes the taut bud of flesh back into his mouth. He sucks on it, slowly and gently, melting the tension gathered in Holden’s muscles, urging impatient whimpers from his throat. 

Holden writhes under the weight of Bill’s hips, feeling his hardening cock collide with Bill’s clothed erection. He urges up against it, longing to expedite this slow, torturous pleasuring, but Bill is unswayed despite the matching throb of his cock. 

He draws his lips back from Holden’s nipple, letting his teeth take over again. Holden cries out as his nipple scrapes free of Bill’s teeth, and the skin smarts against cool, empty air. 

Bill shoots a glance up at him, taking in Holden’s open mouth and knotted brow. 

“Jesus, Bill, that-” 

Before Holden can finish, Bill turns his head to find the other nipple, untouched yet rigid. Holden’s hips buck against Bill’s, and his arms instinctively pull against the tie as the impulse to grab onto Bill gets to his brain before the recollection that he’s tied down does. 

Groaning, Holden twists away from the sweet, torturous suction of Bill’s mouth and teeth chafing his skin raw. Harsh sensation crashes across his senses, every inch of him already so tender and leaping from two orgasms and the spanking that arousal crushes punishingly against his sensitive cock. 

When Bill’s mouth releases him, Holden pants desperately, his throat tight and gripping with stunned need. 

Bill’s breath wanders across his slick, tingling skin, sending a shiver all down his back. Holden mutes a groan with a clench of his jaw, and slides his eyelids open to glimpse Bill gazing back at him with the glint of satisfaction crystallized inside hazy blue. 

He runs the backs of his fingers over Holden’s shuddering chest, grazing his wet, hard nipple and following the outer curve of his pectoral muscle. Holden bites back a whimper as the feathery caress of Bill’s fingers grazes slowly along the length of his armpit and against the gathered tension in his bicep. His fingertips stop at Holden’s elbow, and he leans in to press a kiss in their place. He watches the pleasure and need ripple across Holden’s face as he kisses his way back down the soft underside of Holden’s arm, reaching lower and lower against highly sensitive skin above his armpit. 

Holden strains against the knot of the tie, clamping his eyes shut as the visual adds to the sensitivity screaming through his body. He tries not to writhe, but Bill’s breath expels and tickles against him, sending a bolt of wild sensation through every nerve ending. 

“Bill…” He protests, his voice emitting in a strangled whine that he barely recognizes. 

Bill nuzzles lower, shushing him softly as he makes his way to Holden’s shuddering ribs. 

“Fuck.” Holden groans, his spine snapping taut against the wet graze of Bill’s mouth stamping its way down his side. “Bill…” 

“Hmm?” Bill mutters, the sound vibrating against Holden’s pinched ribs. 

Holden opens his eyes to cast a glance downward. Staggered breaths force his sides to expand against Bill’s weaving kisses, and he watches helplessly as the winding path leads up against the quivering hollow beneath his breastbone where the faint line of hair begins it’s trail downwards. 

“Please, it …” Holden groans, struggling to describe the sensation overload even as his skin tingles with it. 

“Tickles?” Bill finishes for him, planting a slow kiss against his fluttering diaphragm. 

“Yes … No.” 

Bill’s mouth curls into a pleased smile as Holden’s brow furrows. “You want me to stop?” 

Holden’s head thrashes against the mattress as a deep-seated panic surges through his veins at the thought of Bill’s mouth not touching him, of his screaming body ever being absent of this gradual, torturous rain of kisses leading lower and lower. 

“Good.” Bill says, shifting lower against the bed. “Because you’re not in charge here.” 

Holden lets his head fall back against the bed, exhaling a groaning sigh. 

The sprinkling of gradual, simmering kisses across his belly begins again, and Holden tries not to fight it as his nerve-endings scream against the dichotomous inadequate and overwhelming stimulation turning his cock hard and aching. He doesn’t know whether to cry for more or beg Bill to stop, but his throbbing body has already decided it’s good, too good. 

As the warm, wet kisses cross below his navel and against the rigid swell of his hipbone, Holden gasps and bucks up against the fleeting pressure. 

Grasping his hips, Bill pins him in place as he kisses across the top of Holden’s groin where hair thickens and bundled, tender nerves leap against the slightest caress. His cock lies untouched, throbbing in aching, desperate throes while Bill cautiously avoids the swollen tip on his way to Holden’s other hip. 

“Fuck…” Holden gasps, arching his hips up against the vagrant thought of Bill sucking him off again. The possibility is quickly snatched from reality as Bill gently nudges his cock aside, and pushes his mouth up against the tender join of his hip and thigh. 

Holden groans, yanking impatiently on the tie. “Bill, please.” 

His cry falls on deaf ears as Bill’s palms shift down against his inner thighs, working his legs open before urging them up against his sides. Holden complies with the repositioning even as his whole body trembles against the borderline of arousal and torture. 

His backside is exposed and vulnerable as Bill’s kisses brand the underside of his thigh, starting just below his knee and traveling slowly downward. The hot patter of kisses curl against the inside of his leg, finding soft skin first with lips and then with the graze of teeth. 

Holden gasps as his groin clamps down hard in response, blood rushing hot and prickling from beneath the gentle bite and into his cock. 

Bill’s mouth wanders lower, drizzling slick kisses and tiny bites along the way until he reaches the firm stretch of muscle and tendons straining across his inner thigh; here, his teeth linger longer, hotter, harder. His lips clamp over the bite, applying suction, assuring Holden’s skin will be tender and bruised by morning. 

Holden twists against the sheets, groaning low in the back of his throat as the shaft of pain competes with the need pulsing through him. He cracks his eyelids open to glimpse Bill’s mouth latched around the inside of his thigh, and his cock flexes, descending into twitches of intense arousal. 

He gasps in a breath when Bill’s mouth releases him, soothing the bitten patch of skin with a warm exhale. 

Bill’s gaze shifts upward to check Holden’s open-mouthed expression of need and the rigid state of his cock before continuing lower with a dusting of kisses. His grip on Holden’s legs shifts higher, pinning his thighs up against his chest as he works all the way down to his ass cheek. 

Holden squirms through every soft and firm caress, pleading in between panting gasps and muted groans. By the time Bill’s mouth brushes against the cleft, he’s sweating and whining pitiful sounds of desperation, but he can’t spare a thought to lament his dignity. His mind is drifting in a hazy plane of pounding need, everything so sharp and acute that it’s almost painful, his skin stinging beneath Bill’s kisses, his cock hard with a constant ache. 

He can feel the pre-cum squeezing from him before Bill’s mouth slicks his already pleasured hole, but the moment he feels the press of Bill’s tongue, he loses sight of all self-control. A strangled cry erupts from his throat, and a shudder clenches all the way down his body into the gathered muscles quivering to Bill’s wet, stroking mouth. 

Holden pushes a foot down against Bill’s shoulder, grabbing onto what little leverage he has left to push his pleasure into the fast lane. Bill lets him have this tiny measure of control as Holden rocks down against the steady, slick stroke of his tongue swirling against his hole and slowly winding its way inward. 

“Yes …” Holden gasps, pressing his eyes shut as pleasure swirls in humming tingles through his belly. “Fuck, yes. Oh, Bill …” 

Bill pauses long enough to slick his fingers before pressing them against Holden’s opening. 

Holden gasps, his back arching sharply up from the mattress as Bill’s finger penetrates him slowly, deliberately. Satisfaction thrills through his body, glazing over the latent smattering of kisses lining his skin with full, abrupt pleasure. 

“Oh God… Holden groans, thrusting down against Bill’s finger pumping into him. “Yes, yes …” 

Bill pairs a second finger with his index, and Holden’s eyes roll back, seeing exploding stars as they round the hardening swell of his prostate. The divine pressure intensifies, singling out that tender spot bundled deep inside and bearing down with just the right speed. 

“Oh, fuck …” Holden gasps, his mouth stretching open. 

Arousal sharpens into pleasure, and the pounding in his veins melds into one long roar of orgasm rising up through his chest and belly. For a few torturous moments, he can feel it crouched low in his groin, waiting to spring, sapping all the breath from his lungs and leaving him stiff and quaking with anticipation; then, Bill’s grinding fingers find just the right angle to trigger the storm, and Holden feels is break open inside him, rushing free in a string of brilliant, bone-deep spasms. His whole body shudders against the relentless pressure of Bill’s fingers as his untouched cock spills hot gushes of release across his belly and chest. It courses through him, white-hot and clenching, for several long moments before it begins to melt away into a sensitized hum, sparks of aftershocks dancing across his trembling skin. 

Holden lapses against the mattress, breathing heavily. His eyelids blink open to the white, overhead light and bare reality emerging behind the pleasure haze in his mind. Orgasm rolls back in receding waves, leaving him stranded on shore, his body reeling and wrung of strength. 

Bill’s fingers retreat from inside him, and he leans back on his heels to watch with a satisfied gaze as cum dribbles across Holden’s ribs in translucent lines. 

Holden sucks in a breath, trying to correct the unsteady quiver in his lungs. His gaze collides gingerly with Bill’s from beneath fluttering eyelashes, and he feels his face growing hot as Bill brushes his knuckles across his inner thigh. 

Holden bites on his lower lip as the simple caress makes his body jolt. Every inch of him feels raw and sensitive as if burned, as if the slightest touch could take him apart and he might melt away into nothing. But his gaze lands on Bill’s crotch where his cock is still faintly hard and unsatisfied, and a frown twists his brow. 

“I …” He begins, his voice hoarse and choked. Lifting his gaze back to Bill’s, he clears his throat. “I thought you were going to fuck me.” 

Bill lets out a quiet sigh through his nostrils as he crawls over Holden’s limp, quaking body to plant a soft kiss between his eyebrows, one against the tip of his nose, another at the corner of his trembling lips. 

“I am.” He murmurs. 

The gravelly timber of his voice incites a shiver at Holden’s nape that shoots all the way down to his toes. His heart jolts in his chest as the blood languishing in his veins reignites with fresh realization, every tender inch of him sobbing at the thought of Bill’s hard, thick cock fucking into his already sensitized hole. 

“Now?” Holden whispers, his wrists twisting anxiously against their bindings. 

“In a minute.” Bill says, sounding calm and unperturbed. 

Holden swallows hard, but turns his chin up to accept Bill’s kiss stroking deliberately across his mouth. His hand slides down Holden’s throat and chest to grasp his side, and the distracted touch sends a bolt of sensation through Holden’s body that makes his toes curl. 

Bill breaks the kiss, and strokes Holden’s flushed cheek with his thumb. 

“You’ve got one more in you, don’t you?” He murmurs. 

Holden opens his mouth, but only a choked whimper emerges. Bill’s thumb pushes across his lower lip, and he nods against it. 

Bill kisses his neck, muttering, “That’s a good boy.”

Holden shivers against the praise that barely sates that constant yearning inside of him for Bill’s approval. After the disagreements in Atlanta, he’s ready to do just about anything to earn it, and right now all Bill is asking out of him is his pleasure, a thing he’s ready to give, that he couldn’t say no to even if he tried. 

Bill crawls out from between his legs, and sinks down against the mattress next to him. Grasping Holden’s hip, he turns him onto his side, and curls up against him.

Holden peeks over his shoulder as Bill’s kiss lingers against the back of his neck. The taut press of his hips against Holden’s backside makes his desire readily apparent, but he lets the seconds unfold in silence, allowing Holden’s drained body to recover even as his touch keeps the flame of desire burning. 

Holden swallows back a whimper as Bill’s fingers trace the fluttering expansion of his ribs, his side, and the swell of his hip. The light caress sends sparks flying across his sensitized skin, and it’s as if every nerve is attached to the center of his body where his limp cock is humming with delirious need. 

Bill’s fingers uncurl across his ass cheek and against the underside of his thigh, pushing his leg up towards his chest to expose his hole. 

Holden’s eyelids slide shut against the acute sensations screaming through his used, aching body. A thick groan pushes against the back of his throat as Bill’s fingers graze along the length of his cleft, brushing up against his slick hole. His cock stirs, helpless to the thought of those fingers going into him, followed by Bill’s cock fucking him raw. 

Bill pushes up on his elbow to scatter kisses down Holden’s heaving ribs. His fingers leave his backside just long enough to grab the Vaseline lying discarded on the mattress at their feet. 

Holden bites back a whimper. His arms strain against the tie as desperation shoots from head to toe. His whole body is quaking with the overwhelming sensations compounding through him from three orgasms, leaving him in a confused, hazy limbo between torture and desire. 

Bill’s mouth pauses against his shuddering ribs as he glides his palm up over Holden’s hip and across his belly. His touch grazes Holden’s twitching cock, and Holden nearly cries as sensation and need crush across aching, spent flesh. 

“Oh, fuck.” Holden moans, his hips writhing against Bill’s gentle caress. “Please…”

Bill’s hand pushes down against his balls, gathering tender flesh in a kneading embrace. 

Holden pants through overwhelming waves of sensation, his body flushing hot as he tries to differentiate whether it’s good or bad or somewhere fuzzy in between. He thrusts his hips into the caress, gluttonous for this divine form of pleasure and pain that crashes newly, sharply across his flaming senses. 

As his cock comes alive again, Bill curls his fingers around the shaft to encourage the fresh flow of blood swelling him. The drag of his hand is slow and steady, easing Holden back into the hum of arousal that prickles like a thousand tiny needles across his skin. 

Holden feels everything grow taut and aching again, and he slips his eyelids open to see his cock almost entirely erect again in Bill’s hand. He draws in a shaky breath, half-relieved, deliriously joyful.

He groans, shooting a glance over his shoulder to see Bill eagerly watching the shudders run up and down his spine. 

“Are you going to fuck me now?” He whispers, his voice twisted with desperate need. 

Bill’s hand retreats from his cock, and reaches for the Vaseline in his lap. 

“Please.” Holden moans, arching his hips back in eager offering. “Please say yes.” 

Bill’s mouth twitches with a faint smile as he uncaps the Vaseline. “Yes.” 

Holden exhales a relieved sigh. Biting at his lower lip, he watches Bill dip his fingers into the Vaseline. They come away wet and gleaming, and push up against Holden’s cleft. 

He gasps as the slick glide of Bill’s fingers sends his pulse into a wild stampede. The Vaseline is quick to warm in the friction between their skin, melting away any lingering tension, and allowing Bill’s fingers to slide easily into him. 

Holden thrusts back against the penetration, crying out a broken sound of need. His body quakes against the steady, repetitive intrusion, the flesh already limp and humming from every other touch that has led to this moment. His cock twinges against his thigh, physically struggling to achieve full erection while his mind leaps ahead to a fourth orgasm being pounded out of him by Bill’s cock. 

He gasps feverishly at the thought, and shoots an anxious gaze over his shoulder at Bill. 

“Please, Bill.” He moans, hips writhing against the inadequate thrust of Bill’s fingers. “I want your cock.” 

Bill’s hand slows against him, and he bends to plant a kiss against Holden’s shoulder. “You’re ready?” 

“Yes, please. I need it.” 

Bill withdraws his fingers, and reaches down to peel his boxers back from his cock. 

Holden strains his gaze over his shoulder to see Bill’s erection, deep pink and etched with viciously throbbing purple veins. Traces of pre-cum stain the swollen head, milky white against angry, dissatisfied red. He chokes on a sound of joy at the sight of it, needy tears stinging at the corners of his eyelids as the evening surges towards its pinnacle, the last final bit of pleasure he’s been longing for. 

Bill dips his fingers into the Vaseline again, and lathers his cock. 

Holden can see the desperate need ripple beneath the clench of Bill’s jaw, and his chest leaps with excitement. It’s what he’s been wanting all night, what he’d expected driving here - for Bill to pin him down and fuck him hard, to reduce him to nothing more than a hole to be used and filled with release. As much as he’s enjoyed every previous orgasm, he craves that feeling of completion when their bodies are joined at the deepest point, everything else stripped back to bare, vulnerable intimacy.

His cock begins to pulse with alive, aching need as Bill pushes up against him, the hot, blunt head of his cock brushing up against his opening. 

“Yes, yes.” Holden whispers, arching back against the slick glide of their skin colliding. “Please.” 

Grasping the swell of Holden’s hip, Bill feeds his cock slowly into Holden’s wet hole. The pressure mounts gradually, pushing back against the scarce, lingering resistance to find his way to the bottom. 

Holden’s mouth stretches open as the utterly full sensation is completed with the muted slap of Bill’s hips against his ass. Impaled, he squirms helplessly, panting through the overwhelming pressure of Bill’s cock throbbing against the deepest part of him. 

“Oh God, oh God.” Holden gasps, but he can’t think about God or anything outside of this moment; he’s just clinging on the final scraps of his sanity, his dignity. His cock is willingly hard, throbbing despite the stinging sensitivity, yearning for release again despite how thoroughly he’s been drained. 

Bill starts to rock against him, and Holden feels himself coming apart, shaking from head-to-toe, groaning out strangled noises that verge on sobs. The tie knotted around his wrists is the only thing keeping him in place as he feels his body bolting up against the wild crush of sensation, the raw scream of his body begging the deviantly hungry part of him longing for more for just a bit of mercy. 

Bill rises over him, and lays him out on his back again. His thrusting remains steady as he wrangles Holden’s ankles up against his shoulders, and grasps his hips to lift him up against the grinding rhythm of his hips. 

Holden tries to meet the intensity of Bill’s gaze scouring beneath the trembling layers of his skin, seeing straight to the inside of his skull, but he can feel a gripping weakness rising up in the back of his throat, crushing building, overstimulated tears to his eyelids. His mouth stretches open in a strangled cry that he turns to muffle into his bicep. He gasps desperately into his arm as everything grows sharper, hotter, tighter; he can feel the tingles churning through his belly again, his skin twitching in raw, brilliant agony. It melds into a needy, cutting pulse, building and building with every smack of Bill’s hips against him. 

He hears himself pleading, gasping, sobbing; then Bill’s hand is gripping him securely, and it feels like some new revelation, beyond the structure of pleasure and pain, in a dizzying plane of tortured relief. He sucks in a lungful of oxygen past the clutch of tears just before the pleasure hits. His blurry eyes slip open as the spasms grip him, and his cock is leaking a meager stream of release while the orgasm grips his insides like an unfamiliar phantom of pleasure that’s existing more inside him than it is in the used up sputter of cum. 

Holden sinks down against the sheets as the orgasm sharpens and quickly dies. His head is swimming somewhere beyond reality as the weight of Bill’s chest pins him down against the sheets. He smothers his gasping breaths in Bill's neck, faintly clinging on through the building thrusts of Bill chasing after his own pleasure. 

Finally, he feels Bill stiffen against him, the hot burst of his gasp buried in Holden’s neck. Shudders envelop him, and he clings to Holden’s limp body through the long stretch of spasms, of his release pumping Holden full and leaking with the excess. His hips stagger through tenacious, needy thrusts even as the orgasm fades, and his cock begins to soften inside the slick, open cove of Holden’s body. 

As the pleasure melts away, Bill sinks down against Holden’s chest with a contented sigh. 

Holden closes his eyes, sniffing in a breath against the lingering clutch of tears. Though Bill’s body is resting heavily on top of him, he feels like he’s floating, suddenly humming numbly after the persistent overload of sensation. 

The seconds stretch out in silence, infinite and quiet. He doesn’t want to move for fear that he could shatter the contained peace of this moment, for fear that reality could open the door on them and poison this raw feeling of satisfaction and joy with something as ugly as the truth. He doesn’t want to think about consequences, or anything beyond the next second; right now, this feels like home, and where he’s meant to be. 

~ 

There’s no clock on the wall of the bedroom to indicate how much time has passed, but it could’ve been anywhere between twenty minutes or an hour. Bill doesn’t think to question how long he’s been laying against Holden’s chest until he hears Holden’s breathing slip into a heavy, cadenced rhythm. 

Bill lifts his head carefully to see Holden’s eyes shut and his mouth laying half-open in slumber. A smile tugs at his mouth. 

He moves slowly so as to not disturb Holden’s nap as he climbs out from between his legs, and swipes his shirt and trousers from the floor. Digging his cigarettes and lighter out of the discarded clothes, he presses one to his mouth and lights up. 

The knot in his chest is smaller and looser. He knows that come morning there will be consequences. He’ll have to deal with Nancy leaving. He’ll have to call her, find out where she is, and take a critical look at their future. The word  _ divorce  _ pops up in the back of his head, and it tastes like a bitter pill that he’s going to have to choke down whether he likes it or not. 

Bill shoots a glance over his shoulder at Holden, and grimaces a smile around his cigarette. It isn’t all for nothing. 

He gets up from the mattress to gently untie Holden’s wrists. As the tie slides away, Holden’s arms sink limply over his head, but he keeps on dreaming. 

Bill stands over him, smoking and thinking for a long minute. The house settles around him, the groan and shudder of its structure like the voice of the past reaching out to touch the possibility of the future. 

This house was once he and Nancy’s dream home. They’d moved here after Brian’s adoption to start fresh on a new chapter in their lives. He’d pictured them raising their son here, growing old together, finding happiness again. For a minute, he’d nearly believed in his own lie. He’d nearly believed they could repair the divide between them, and love each other again even as his own heart moved on, miles ahead of his brain still churning through the motions of denial. 

Bill draws in a deep breath, his gaze circling the empty room before finding its way back to Holden. It’s time to get up, time to shake off the shackles of the past, time to come in out of the cold and into the light again. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed, and gently squeezes Holden’s shoulder. 

“Holden.” 

Holden’s eyelids flutter open, and he frowns sleepily up at Bill. “Hmm?” 

“Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and go.” 

“Go?” Holden mumbles. “Where?” 

“Somewhere else.” Bill says, “Your place. Anywhere but here.”

“Okay.” 

Bill helps Holden sit up, and leans in to kiss him on the mouth. 

Holden melts against his chest, humming a sound of exhausted contentment as he tries to snuggle into an embrace. 

“Come on.” Bill urges, nudging him in the ribs. 

Holden gathers his limbs up from the bed, and staggers behind Bill down the hall. 

Bill is quietly relieved that Holden is so overprepared and committed to personal hygiene. He’d packed soap and a towel in the duffel bag, just enough supplies to get them a shower before they leave the empty house for good. 

Holden is unusually quiet as they share the small space in the shower, muttering only soft apologies as they squeeze around each other to get to the water. The sound of the water hitting the shower base fills the silence with soothing white noise, but underneath of it Bill can hear a million questions chattering into a dull roar. 

When the water shuts off, Bill steps out of the shower and dries off with the towel. Holden leans against the wall of the shower, watching him quietly. Water drips from his hair and across the dark fringe of his eyelashes where his eyes peer deep blue and reflective. 

Bill hands the towel over to him. “What?” 

“What?” 

“I can tell you’re thinking.” Bill says, “Just say it. Whatever it is.” 

Holden dabs water from his face and neck, and holds the towel to his chest. Drawing in a deep breath, he lifts his shoulders. “I’m just thinking … now what?” 

“That’s a loaded question.” Bill says, “I don’t know, Holden. I’m just as blindsided as you.” 

“Are you going to leave her?” 

“I think she left me.” Bill says, waving a hand toward the rest of the house. 

“I know.” Holden says, “I guess what I’m trying to say is … I just- … I didn’t think we would get to this point - you and me.” 

“What point is that?” 

Holden’s gaze shifts away nervously before fighting it’s way back to Bill’s frown. “Well, this is more than sex now, isn’t it?”

Bill swallows hard. He shakes his head as he grabs the clothes from the counter, and starts getting dressed. A strain of panic surges through his chest, but it’s quickly tempered by the realization that he’d already come to that conclusion himself. He’d come to it right in the middle of making Holden come for the third time, when he was kissing his way down Holden’s body, memorizing and worshipping every inch. Maybe he’d realized it before then, when Holden was sleeping in the car while they were supposed to be watching bridges in the dead of the night, or even earlier when he’d flown to Vacaville in an instant to bring Holden home. 

Holden steps out of the shower and tucks the towel around his waist as he approaches Bill. 

Bill pulls his shirt over his head, and braces his hands against the edge of the sink. The mirror hanging in front of him reflects a conflicted image, one of longing for something real while a flinching fear holds him back. 

Holden appears just behind his shoulder, his gaze penetrating despite the mirrored delay. 

“I want it to be more than sex.” He says, softly, his hand grazing Bill’s shoulder. “I think you do, too.” 

“There’s more going on than what I want.” Bill says, “I have to deal with this, Holden. It isn’t that simple. There’s going to be a lot of conversations, lawyers - fuck, maybe even court. It’s going to be a long, hard process, and I don’t know if you want to be caught in the middle of that. I mean, Christ, I can’t  _ ask  _ you to be caught in the middle of it. That wouldn’t be fair, or-”

“Bill.” 

Bill stops, drawing in a hitched breath as Holden’s fingers curl around his wrist, pulling him around to face him. Bill glances down, avoiding Holden’s perceptive gaze for as long as he can. 

Holden’s fingers push underneath his chin as he leans into Bill’s chest. His body is warm and faintly damp from the shower, but the weight of it feels good and right. 

Bill allows himself to put his arms around Holden’s waist, and pull him closer. 

“Bill.” Holden whispers, his gaze gently meeting Bill’s. “I love you.” 

Everything stops with that whispered admission except for the churning thud of Bill’s heartbeat echoing in his ears. Maybe if he pulled the curtain back from the window, the sky would be coming apart outside, raining white, melting stars into his eyes. 

He draws in a hitched breath, searching for some response to the magnitude of those words. He should respond; he has to, but he feels like he’s slipping away from shore and treading into unknown waters. 

“Bill?” Holden whispers, sounding concerned. 

“I, uh …” Bill says, trying to clear his throat of the growing knot. “Are you sure?”

Holden scoffs a chuckle. “Yes. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” 

“Okay.” Bill says, nodding as the idea processes, forming into something solid and immovable. “I, um … I think that I …”

Holden waits patiently, his mouth curved into a giddy smile. 

“I think I feel the same way.” Bill says, spitting out the words quickly before he can second-guess them, or let some kind of clinging, cowardly fear shove them back down into his chest. 

He opens his eyes, half-expecting the room to be on fire around them; but it’s just Holden’s glacial blue eyes staring back at him, swallowing up his fears and regrets and snuffing them out with ease. 

Holden bites back a smile, and leans in to plant a kiss on Bill’s mouth. 

“Okay.” He says, drawing back with a deep inhale. “Let’s go. My place has sheets on the bed.” 

“Okay.” Bill echoes, clinging to the edge of the counter. 

He watches as Holden gets dressed, every movement zealous with the spring of joy. It melts some of the tension in his shoulders, seeing Holden so carefree and serendipitous in the prospect of the future. For the first time in awhile he thinks that whatever comes next won’t hurt him or crush him, won’t scar him or haunt him. 

Once they’re both dressed, Bill puts enough clothes for the next week into a bag, and Holden retrieves his duffel from the living room. 

Holden opens the door, and steps out onto the front stoop where the evening has descended into darkness. The hum of crickets echoes across quiet lawns, the world around them already asleep and unaware of what’s changed. 

Bill scans the empty living room one last time before shutting the door on the past. He walks away, slowly realizing that sometimes dreams aren’t bound up in places; sometimes the dream home is in someone else’s eyes. 

~the end~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I'm [prinxcesskayy](https://prinxcesskayy.tumblr.com//) on Tumblr!


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